


Big Brother

by LadyLozz97



Series: Tattooed Love [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Brother-Sister Relationships, F/M, Self-Discovery, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2018-08-30 04:33:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8518633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLozz97/pseuds/LadyLozz97
Summary: Skye had never felt like she truly belonged. A life of rejection will do that to a person. And growing up an orphan, with a abnormally patterned soulmark, there was plenty to go around.That is until Clint Barton became her friend and brother. They chose each other in a world where no one else would. They grew up together, sharing a mutual understanding of how difficult life can be when you aren't accepted. Between the deaf boy and the freaky girl, an unlikely friendship blossomed.The brother/sister duo had a strong bond. She is a hacker and he works private security. So when aliens attack New York and Skye discovers her brother fighting alongside the world's finest superheroes, Skye is admittedly confused. They never used to keep secrets, so why would Clint lie to her about being a superhero?





	1. A Donut and a Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye struggles to find the information she needs, and a secret kept hidden is uncovered by a news report and an invasion of the alien variety.

Skye was seated in a brown leather booth of her favourite coffee shop, typing lazily on her laptop. A half-eaten donut and lukewarm coffee, her only companions, in the isolated corner of the shop.  The free WIFI and friendly wait staff always beckoning her to return. Skye had been sitting in the booth for the past three hours, committed to finding the information she wanted. Skye had hacked into one of the SHIELD databases to search for the unredacted file that would reveal her origins.

Skye had grown up an orphan, bouncing around the foster system and St. Agnes orphanage respectively. So she had no idea who her family was. When Skye was 15 she had run away from the orphanage and began the cumbersome and slow-paced task of uncovering the truth about her parents. She wanted to know why she had been given away, abandoned and forgotten about. She needed to know where she came from, even if the answers to her questions proved painful.

But her efforts had only yielded one promising lead. A redacted SHIELD file. A file that would undoubtedly reveal to Skye the truth she had wondered about for the better part of her entire life.

Which led Skye to this exact moment. Sitting in her favourite New York coffee shop, poaching their free WIFI, mulling over a cold cup of coffee and a half-loved donut, and hacking into SHIELD.

After a gruelling three hours, Skye was no closer to uncovering the truth. To locating the unredacted file. It wasn’t because Skye’s hacking capabilities weren’t up to scratch, it was because the unredacted file was either on a closed SHIELD network – meaning there was no way for remote digital access, or there was no digital file to speak of. For all Skye knew, the unredacted file might be sitting in a thick manila folder, stored away in a dusty prehistoric filing cabinet, labelled under ‘O for Orphans.’

Skye took a deep breath and scrubbed at her aching eyes. She had been staring at the same computer screen for too long. Skye stretched her limbs out under the table and rolled her head on her shoulders, extending her kinked neck, relishing the resounding pop as her joints loosened. Skye absentmindedly traced the pad of her forefinger along the beginning of her soulmark at the top of her spine, and shivered when the mark tingled in sentient response. That was another person Skye had failed to locate after all these years. Skye’s soulmate still remained a mystery to her.

Most people were born with their soulmark, or in the most extraordinary cases _soulmarks_ , indicating that they were destined to be united with someone who would make them complete. Someone who they could share their soul and life with. Traditionally soulmarks were black inked markings of the skin. Appearing usually at birth, however it was not uncommon for some people to develop a soulmark when they were older, signalling the birth of their younger soulmate. The tattooed words only forming on the skin when the other half of the soul was brought to life. Typically, soulmarks depicted the first words spoken between a soul bonded pair. However that was not always the case. In rare instances the soulmarks would be portrayed in unintelligible patterns and shapes.

Studies into these strange instances had yielded little information on the phenomena, however it was known that the patterns worked seemingly similar to the literary soulmarks. The patterns and shapes depicted the circumstances surrounding a soul bonded pairs first meeting. No one knew why there were seemingly two distinct types of soulmarks. Some speculated that the pictorial and patterned markings were nature’s way of depicting a much deeper spiritual connection between soulmates. One that could not so easily be expressed through words alone. But again, it was only idle speculation. No one truly knew why there were two distinct types of soul marks.

Much to Skye’s endless irritation, she was one among the very rare few to have such a soulmark. Born with an image, instead of her soulmates chicken-scratch and first words uttered between them, forever etched into her skin. Skye was one of the unlucky ones.

Skye’s soulmark itself was a consistent spiral, resembling something close to a continuous strand of DNA, however the symbols were more archaic and peculiar than any other kind of DNA strand imaginable. The inscriptions and what Skye assumed to be some kind of dead language – at least none that Skye had ever seen - seemed almost ancient and alien. Patterns so obtuse and strange that the human mind struggled to comprehend them. Amidst the rungs of the ‘not-DNA’ strands were a series of tiny lines, curved spirals, circles and half-moons. All perfectly aligned and yet seeming to miss something integral, like part of the picture was missing. And then at the very top of the tattoo, where Skye’s neck meets her shoulders, was an intricate flower, a daisy. The only recognisable shape amidst the mess of lines and edges spiralling down Skye’s spine, ending just blow the hem of her jeans.

Each soulmark was decidedly unique, however it was unusual to have such a large soulmark. The tattoo-like ink occupied over a third of Skye’s back, permanently marking her skin.

The abnormal soulmark had always made Skye feel like an anomaly. A freak in her own right. At least that’s what she had been told at the orphanage, where she had spent her formative years. Children often had the cruel tendency to criticise and ostracise things that they did not understand. And Skye’s soulmark had not been an exception to that rule. She had been bullied and alienated every time she returned to St. Agnes Orphanage, every time another foster family decided that she _wasn’t a good fit._ Eighteen foster homes later. Skye shuddered to recall the sheer number of rejections even now.

That was until she met her brother. Well not her biological brother of course, but her chosen brother. A boy who was older by three years but bullied just the same as Skye, whenever he was inevitably returned to the orphanage. He was tormented, not for his soulmark – his was perfectly ordinary – but for his inability to hear. Together they forged a bond, and cared for each other in a world where no one gave a damn about the deaf boy and the freaky girl.

Skye was abruptly pulled from her thoughts when her phone pinged, alerting her to a new encrypted message.

**_C.B - Don’t freak out. Get out of New York. Now._ **

Was the entire message from Skye’s brother. _Freak out about what?_ Skye asked herself impatiently, a tendril of dread coiling in her guts as she contemplated all the possible situations her brother might have gotten himself involved in, and what could have possibly been dangerous enough for Skye’s big brother to urge her to get out of town.

**_Skye – What’s happening??_ **

Just as Skye typed out and sent her message in reply, the television overlooking the counter in the coffee shop blared with an emergency announcement. The news anchor looking pale, scared and sweat soaked, issued an evacuation broadcast across the whole of New York, a channel-wide announcement blanketing every single news outlet.

Skye watched on with horror as a series of videos and candid shots displayed a portal in the middle of the sky opening up, and a flood of insect-like aliens came pouring out of the gaping fissure. But worse than that, was the following video of Iron Man, the Black Widow, Captain America, Thor, the Hulk and her _big brother_ fighting the extra-terrestrial creatures in the streets of New York city.

 _What the hell was Clint doing fighting aliens?! He didn’t know how to fight, and he certainly did not know Captain America or Iron Man! He would have told me_ , Skye frantically reasoned with herself.

Skye watched with baited breath as her big brother fought the creatures with practiced ease. Calmly drawing the string of his bow back and releasing it with a new arrow every couple of seconds. Hitting his marks with deadly accuracy. Skye felt fear gnaw at her gut, as she watched on, as her brother fought alongside his comrades. She feared for his life, despite his apparent skill in combat.

The one thing Skye knew for certain, was that _Clinton Francis Barton_ had a lot of explaining to do when this was all over.

Reluctantly Skye heeded her brother’s warning and rushed out of the coffee shop and into the pandemonium of chaos and fear outside. She ran around the corner of the coffee shop, to the alley where her van was parked, and prepared to make a hasty escape out of New York. As much as it pained Skye to leave her brother behind, she knew that there was nothing she could do to help him. She was just a humble hacker. Skye knew that her presence in New York would be a hindrance to her brother, a distraction. And Skye had seen enough James Bond films to know that distractions got people killed. Skye made it to her beat up blue van, started the engine after a few aggressive key turns and muttered curses, and high-tailed it out of New York.

Praying desperately that her big brother made it out of this fight alive. Feeling utterly helpless to do anything more for him.

**_Skye – Made it out of New York. Please be safe, love you._ **


	2. An Alien Invasion, does a Hero make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While her brother fights on the frontlines in a war against extra-terrestrials, Skye can’t sit idly by no matter how hard Clint might want her to. So she helps in the best way she knows how.

Skye’s hand was shaking, not a direct result of her fear or stress, but over caffeination. It was two agonising hours ago that she had heard from Clint. And she had no new news on him. All the local news channels had shorted out a while ago. Plummeting the once bustling metropolis into darkness.

Skye was parked just outside the city limits in her chalky blue van, and had broken out her stash of energy drinks about half an hour ago. She was currently on her third ‘heart attack in a can’ fizzy drink, and was beginning to question what percentage of her blood was now pure caffeine. Her hand continued to shake, emphasising her point.

She was bent over her computer, with the doors to her van locked using the reinforced padlocks she had bought just over three years ago when she purchased her rudimentary house on wheels. With all the screaming and panic that Skye could still hear filtering through the flimsy steel and heavy light blocking drapes of her mobile home, she knew that the extra security would do her good.

Skye sunk further into the thick mattress strewn across the cool metal floor, seeking the small ounce of comfort that the lumpy stuffing and askew springed monstrosity could provide her. She would never admit it aloud, but the whole situation she currently found herself in, utterly terrified her.

It reminded her of being back at St. Agnes. She felt like a small child, insignificant and unable to control her own fate. And although she was trying really hard to be angry with Clint right now over his betrayal of her trust, all she wanted was for him to cradle her to his chest and remind her that no one could hurt either of them so long as they stuck together.

Logically she knew that while Clint was off saving the world _– ‘cause apparently, that was something he did now –_ he couldn’t be snuggled in the back of her van with her. But it didn’t stop Skye from needing to see him, to hear his voice, and reassure herself that her big brother was safe despite the chaos and danger surrounding him.

Hacking into Clint’s superpowered team’s secure comms unit was almost too easy. A few lazy keystrokes and Skye was listening in as Earth’s last line of defence fought for the safety and sanctity of this world, and the people within it.

Skye infused her nerves with steel, imagining that being brave was that simple, as she listened to the piercing crack of gunfire, the heavy breathing of Earth’s heroes labouring hard to save humanity. The grunts of pain and exertion as they pushed their extra-human selves to fight harder still.

The sound of fighting did little but fray her nerves further, none of them were talking to one another at present, simply dispatching their own immediate threats with chilling precision.

Skye needed a visual. She needed to see what was happening. She hacked a few nearby cameras to have a clearer picture of where her brother was amidst all the chaos, but most of the city’s surveillance systems were damaged or offline. In a last-ditch effort to calm her broiling worry, Skye began to hack NASA’s low orbit satellite.

Skye had no idea what to expect when the video feed finally came through, as there was obviously a giant wormhole tearing open the sky above New York. But it wasn’t what she saw now.

The satellite was staring down at the wormhole from behind. And she was stunned to note that it was like the portal was a mirror reflection on both sides. Showing a clear image of the aliens and the darkest recesses of space from which they hailed. The ultraviolet edges of the fissure that ate at the edges of brilliant blue sky rippled like a ring of muscle. But beyond that, within the dark orifice of space, she saw the cold, sterile structure of the alien ship. It would be an understatement to call the craft massive. Skye guessed that it could easily be the same size as New York itself.

Skye tore her eyes away from the hauntingly beautiful image before her, and refocused her energies on finding security camera’s that hadn’t been destroyed yet. Altogether she was able to access more than she had bargained for, and ran her brother’s face through her own facial recognition software. Combing the city for her brother’s position.

Within a minute, she found him, perched atop a skyrise roof, dispatching arrows, and alien combatants with striking ease. He made the entire action of notching his arrow, pulling the string taunt, aiming and releasing, look so easy, Skye compared the fluidity to something so natural as blinking.

Skye watched as the alien’s all fell victim to her brother’s arrows. One after another. He never missed. She had known that his eyesight was ridiculously amazing, but she never would have guessed it was this good.

Curiously, Skye noticed a pattern emerging as Clint hit a target, and a strange rippling glow that shuddered across the mothership still hovering in deep space. It was almost like they were interconnected. Like by hurting the alien’s, they were also hurting the mothership. Skye wondered if perhaps a similar action could occur if instead the mothership was targeted.

Skye added an audio component to her hack into Clint’s comm, and reluctantly announced herself, knowing that this would get her into so much trouble. “Clint I think I found a pattern that you should know about.” She said quickly.

The sound of startled scuffling over the comms made guilt niggle in the back of Skye’s head. She hadn’t meant to distract any of the enhanced fighters from their heroics.

“Should have known you were too stubborn to listen to me.” Clint sighed with exasperation.

“I did listen. I am out of New York. But that doesn’t mean that I was going to leave you to fend for yourself.” Skye retorts sarcastically. She watches as Clint grins in response on her computer screen.

“Who the hell is talking right now. This is a secure line.” Tony Stark’s indignant huff could be heard across the comms. “Jarvis please identify the intruder and block their access.” Tony ordered with irritation.

“Yes sir.” Came the smooth British accented reply of his trusty AI companion.

Skye was beaming by this point. She had heard all about Jarvis, and had even contemplated hacking him for fun when she was younger and slightly more juvenile.

“I am afraid I cannot get past her countermeasures sir.” Came Jarvis’ confused admission moments later.

Skye grinned triumphantly at her small victory, but then refocused on the task at hand. “I am only here to help. I promise. I have access to a NASA satellite and am currently looking at a reflection of the mothership in deep space. I think that the ship itself and the aliens are somehow connected. Every time you guys hit one of the aliens, there is a purple shockwave that passes through the ship. Kind of like hitting a nerve.” Skye explained.

Tony huffed in annoyance. But Clint chuckled. “So what do you suggest then?” Clint asked quickly. Quietly proud of his sister’s accomplishment in thwarting Stark’s attempts to severe her connection to their comms.

“Well I think that if you can somehow target the mothership, then you might be able to kill the alien’s all at once. If not kill them, then maybe trigger a severe pain response that would debilitate them long enough to get the upper hand.” Skye answered quickly.

“Well I might have something we can aim at it.” Tony sighs heavily. “There’s a nuke headed for New York.” He explains.

Skye swallows thickly, knowing that she was still too close to the city for the blast radius not to affect her.

“I think I can close the portal.” Natasha yells above the sound of the wind to be heard.  “Stark, if you can put the nuke in that portal, I can close it.” She elaborates.

Helplessly, Skye watches as Tony flies the bomb up into the wormhole. The missile and his Iron Man suit disappearing into the abyss. She watches the image from the satellite feed, and gasps as she watches the mothership explode violently, the shockwave pushing Tony’s drained suit spiralling back into Earth’s gravity field.

The ultraviolet veins of the portal recede, and then abruptly disappear, as though nothing had happened and it was just a normal day in New York City.

The aliens abruptly drop dead. Their connection to the mothership robbing them of their interface and life.

Tony Stark was still plummeting to Earth, his speed increasing the closer he got. He would become a red stain on the pavement if he didn’t slow his descent. Skye couldn’t watch, as the ground grew closer and closer. Until the Hulk cushioned his fall, and saved the playboy billionaire’s life.

Skye sighed with relief, when Tony woke up. Even going so far as laughing when he made a joke about hoping no one kissed him.

All was well.

Skye turned her attention back to her brother. “You okay Clint?” She asked quietly.

Clint was breathing heavily. “Yeah kid, I am fine. You?”

“Yeah I am fine.” Skye reassured softly.

“Good. Because what have I told you about hacking into government property?” Clint asked with fond annoyance.

Skye groaned. “To not to.” She replied with a pout. “Jeez, you’re such an old man sometimes, I swear.” Skye complained mostly to herself. She ignored the distinctly feminine chuckle as Natasha listened in on the interaction. “Besides, technically I only hacked into one government agency, and SHIELD doesn’t count. Because they’re supposed to be a super-secret spy agency. And realistically if I can hack them, then they shouldn’t be a super-secret spy agency in the first place. So that only leaves the NASA satellite, and they are a privately-operated organisation. So technically, I didn’t hack any government property at all.” Skye justified aloud.

There were a number of snickers of the comms, as different members of the team bit back their raucous laughter. Clint only groaned louder.

“Where’d you find this girl Legolas?” Tony asked after a moment. The humour still audible in his tone.

“That’s classified I am afraid.” Clint answers sarcastically. Knowing how Skye felt about the freedom of information.

“Clinton Francis Barton. You did not just say that.” Skye grinds out with affection laden annoyance.

Clint turns a pretty shade of scarlet at the use of his middle name, but otherwise remains cocky. “I did.”

Tasha barely supresses her grin as Clint finally makes his way down to the rest of the gathered group.

“God, you’re a turd.” Skye huffs.

Clint’s cocky grin only grows as the comment is uttered. He knew he had won.

“Anyway. I am glad your safe Clint. I will be in contact soon. I believe you have some explaining to do sweet cheeks.” Skye’s tone is sickly sweet. And she knows that Clint hears the underlying expression of sadness over being lied to.

Clint has the sense to look sheepish.

“Yeah righto kid. I’ll see you soon. Promise.” Clint reassures.

Skye doesn’t say anything again, but instead listens to the team’s conversation as they gather up a very irate looking Loki and sequester him towards the quin-jet in shackles.

Skye watches her computer screen as Clint and Tasha remove their earpieces and step away from the group. Skye zooms in on their lips to decipher their words. A handy skill she had picked up after years of cohabitating with her deaf brother.

 _{“So that is your sister?”}_ Tasha asks with a raised eyebrow.

 _{“Yeah. That was her.”}_ Clint says with a small, private smile.

 _{“She’s good.”}_ Tasha comments offhandedly _._

 _{“At hacking or making me blush?”}_ Clint asks sarcastically.

 _{“Both.”}_ Tasha retorts with a tiny, mischievous smirk. _{“I like her already.”}_

Clint just groans.

Skye smirks triumphantly and closes down her laptop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, I know I havent updated this fic in forever, but I have been trying to finish up my other fic before really sinking my teeth into this one. I dont have a regular update schedule for this fic at the moment. But I hope you all enjoy it anyway.
> 
> Cheers!


	3. A trip to the Prinicpal's Lair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fury calls the team in to have a 'friendly' discussion about a hacker named Skyenet. Loyalties are put to the test, and the director's blood pressure rises.

Meeting Director Nick Fury at one of his classified SHIELD bases, felt eerily similar to being called into the principal’s office, or worse yet Sister Magdalene’s den at St. Agnes Orphanage. Either way, Clint knew that they were in trouble.

To the Council, and according to every official document within SHIELD, the Avenger’s Initiative had been disbanded after defending the world from alien invasion. But as SHIELD had proven time and time again, documents can be forged, and the truth can be misleading.

After the Battle of New York, the world had become aware of the presence of powered individuals and the Avengers had just as many critics as they had fans. Many struggled with fear-borne concerns about the threat people with powers or extreme skill posed. While others looked upon these unique talents and saw their potential for goodness.

Either way, Clint had never seen his face plastered on so many billboards, buildings, newspapers and television screens in his life. Nor did he ever believe that such an anomalous event would ever occur in his wildest dreams.

But it was because of this exposure that Nick Fury had lied to the governing body in which he answered to. A man like that would never let assets he believed were valuable, scatter to the wind and live in relative peace and freedom. But more so, he would never allow those valuable assets be used by someone other than himself.

Clint had no beef with Fury, in fact, on some level he respected the man. The eye-patch toting director was strict, and fearless and well-intentioned. But he was also curious, and cunning, and it was a combination of those two personality traits that made him dangerous.

After all, if hadn’t thought to experiment with the tesseract, and aim to build weapons with a piece of tech he had little to no understanding of in the first place. An invasion could have been avoided, and all the loss of life, injury and property destruction could have been prevented.

Clint respected Fury, but he also knew that power was addictive and corrupting. He had been a spy long enough to see men succumb to their own greed and selfishness to know that even a man as good as Fury, was walking on a slippery slope.

Pushing all of his reservations aside, Clint refocused himself on the happenings around him. The base they were now secreted away in was _Codenamed Haven Rock_ , and the Avengers were now five of fifteen people who knew the base existed. Made up entirely of cinderblock, concrete, steel supports and harsh fluorescent lighting, it passed the minimum requirements of an average super-secret lair. Clint almost snorted at the stereotypical mundanity of it all. Fury was nothing if not traditional.

Clint’s feet echoed softly through the cavernous hallway, Tasha keeping pace next to him with the lethal, silent grace of the assassins who trained her. Whereas Tony and Steve led the pack with their careless footfalls and self-assured swagger, escorted by a tubby little fellow by the name of Eric Koenig. Bruce hung back behind them all, slowly venturing deeper into the bowels of the labyrinth with anxious glances towards all the exits and tepid footfalls. No doubt questioning the strength of the structure, and the risk he posed to the scant staff on base.

When the group finally reached the unassuming steel grey door that led into Fury’s office, Tony barged through the doorway without a second thought, pushing aside Agent Koenig with the brash arrogance of someone who answered to no one but himself. No knocking, no patient loitering outside the door until summoned. He simply waltzed in as though it was his millions of dollars that had paid for the drab underground coffin to be built into the side of a perfectly good mountain. Clint decided that Tony would have been the kid in school that always got into trouble, but never punished for it because of his last name and the thickness of his dad’s wallet.

Clint used to be envious of those kids in school. They had so much, whereas he had tattered, too-large clothes on his back and the reputation of being an _‘undesirable’_ orphan.

Fury spun in his chair to face the new arrivals, and raised a single, thinning eyebrow at the team he had hand-picked himself. His singular eye seeming to look through Stark in retaliation for his presumptuous behaviour.

“Take a seat.” Fury gestured to the evenly spaced chairs, stoically. Eric Koenig slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Clint sat down further away from Fury than the rest of them. He knew that the position he chose was revealing in its own way, but he decided not to dwell on the matter too long.

“I have summoned you all here today to discuss the unique circumstances you all found yourselves in a week ago during the battle for New York.” Fury makes intentional eye contact with each of them, his words carefully measured and his tone even. But Clint could feel the weight behind them.

“You mean aside from the attempted-invasion of Earth by a race of David-Schwimmer-looking aliens?” Tony nods his head sarcastically as though he had heard Fury respond negatively. “Oh okay, and what circumstance might that have been boss?” Tony snarked with his usual glibness.

Fury’s eye narrows in Tony’s direction, but the playboy billionaire met his gaze and held it, smirking all the while.

“I am talking about the breach in security that occurred while the battle was raging. Some of my computer analysts picked up a unique signature belonging to a hacker known only as Skyenet.” Fury’s eye became distinctly hawk-like as he revealed his hand and eagerly watched their reactions to his news.

Clint kept his face carefully still.

Tony chuckled. “Do you mean to tell me that you got hacked and your first instinct is to question us about it?” Folding his crisp, Armani suit-clad arms across his faintly glowing chest.

Clint felt his heart stutter in his chest. He knew his training was supposed to prevent stress reactions such as this from happening. But apparently all sense of propriety went out the window when the director of SHIELD began mentioning his little sister’s hacker handle. But despite his mounting anxiety, Clint was curious as to why Tony seemed to be protecting Skye, and even more concerning was why Fury had even caught wind of Skye’s handle in the first place. Usually his sister could summon some serious digital stealth when she gained access to computer-related technologies that she shouldn’t be meddling with. She could remain entirely invisible… Unless of course she wanted someone to know that she had been there.

“In what system did you find proof of this hacker’s access?” Clint asked abruptly. Suddenly all eyes were on him, Clint fought his innate urge to squirm under the scrutiny.

Fury looked mildly pleased that Clint seemed to be the only one taking the breach seriously. “We found evidence of the handle name _Skyenet_ in two places actually. One in a NASA low-orbit satellite, and the other digital signature was left behind in the shell of Tony’s AI program he left on the Heli carrier.” Fury answered with a dramatic flourish, as he stood from his chair and began pacing the room.

“Which is quite concerning because the shell program that Stark left with us had limited capabilities, but it’s main function was to link our communication devices to the Avenger’s in the field. And that particular satellite was positioned directly above the wormhole, which means whoever was watching has access to data that not even we do, which also means that while you were all out saving the day, someone was monitoring your every move without any of us being aware of their breach!” Fury shouted with frustration. His calm, collected façade cracking under the torrent of his rising blood pressure.

Steve looked at Clint pointedly, as though silently telling him that if any of them were going to spill the beans about Skye, then it was going to need to be him. Clint felt warmed by the display of loyalty, especially after all the hardship and in-fighting it had taken to secure it, but Clint pushed it aside. He knew that he needed to protect Skye at all costs, and that included protecting her from a man that was likely to be equally threatened and enamored by her unique talent with computer software. He would want her skills for himself, and Skye would never be happy with that _arrangement_. He must protect her, even if it included lying to the boss of a major intelligence agency.

Clint hardened his facial features, and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Steve seemed to understand immediately, and relaxed back into his seat, content to listen to Fury’s tirade with dulled interest. While Natasha watched the interaction between the super-soldier and archer with a wisp of a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, before it too, disappeared behind her flawless veneer.

Tony however, he looked amused, and painfully curious. Leaning forward in his seat, and his dark eyes were alight with something Clint could only compare to… joy? Satisfaction maybe? Clint wondered what the man found so goddamn entertaining about the whole situation.

“So what do you expect from us?” Bruce asked hesitantly, his constant anxiety festering behind his eyes the longer they remained underground.

“I expect you all to show some concern about your own safety and security, and to tell me if you noticed anything unusual about your experience in the field that day!” Fury screeched in his usually soothing tenor voice.

“I don’t know what to tell you sir. Aside from the aliens and the debris, and the destruction, it was an average day in New York City.” Steve says with a charming grin, his tone as close to sarcastic as it ever got around superiors. Toeing the line of disrespectful in a way not many could.

“You know I expect that kind of response from him.” Fury points distastefully towards Stark, who swings his mouth agape in mock offense. “But not from you.” He says with an almost defeated sigh.

“I don’t know what else to tell you sir. We saw nothing, we _heard_ nothing.” Rogers restates.

“And what about you Romanov? Can you confirm?” Fury asks with a glimmer of something almost fond in his eye. Clint blinked and it was gone.

Natasha pointedly avoids making eye contact with Clint and without an unnecessary twitch of her facial muscles to betray emotion, simply says, “I have nothing to report sir.”

Fury sighs again. “Fine. Get out of my office, all of you.”

The five of them rise from their seats and begin filing out of the door.

When the team finally reach the Quinn-jet and they are securely positioned hundreds of feet in the air, Clint finally broke the silence that had surrounded them all.

“Why did you all protect her?” He asks almost hesitantly.

Steve smiles gently. “Whoever she is, she’s obviously important to you, and I don’t think she’s a threat to us. I mean she had access to all that data and she chose to help us instead of doing something potentially disastrous. So if you didn’t want Fury to know about her, I saw no reason to undermine that decision.”

Bruce nods in agreement, his anxious fidgeting seeming to have settled some by now.

“What about you Tony?” Clint leans against the cross beam resting above his head to assess the billionaire’s response.

Tony’s fingers finally stop touching the screen of his phone as he realizes he is being addressed. “I am a genius tech billionaire, mostly self-made and I am a firm believer that if you want something in life you have to go after it. So that means that I am certainly not going to do Fury’s homework for him by finding this girl.” He says with a derisive snort and a dramatic eye roll.

“And even if I wanted to find her, I highly doubt that I could. I have heard of her handle before, and she is like a ghost in the online world, you don’t see her unless she wants you to. Skyenet is an urban legend, and I don’t want to piss off the hacker goddess any more than I might have already. Plus I’d rather scoop her up for SI before SHIELD can get their grubby little hands on her.” Tony says with a chuckle as he returns his focus to his phone.

Clint returned to his seat next to Natasha, in the co-pilot’s chair and finally relaxes.

“You didn’t ask me.” The redhead points out after a moment of quiet, and flicks a few switches.

“That’s because I didn’t have to.” Clint answers easily.

Natasha raises a finely sculpted eyebrow.

“You’re my best friend. I know that you’re always on my side.” Clint answers the unasked question without preamble.

Natasha’s non-expressive smile grows for a small moment, and Clint pretends not to notice as they fly back to the Stark tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the sporadic timeframes between updates, I dont get much time to write, and when I do, it's usually spent working on my other fic Second Chances.
> 
> Anyway, for those that are invested in Big Brother, I hope you enjoy the new chapter update! :D


	4. We Hackers have a Schedule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A friend reaches out to Skye with an interesting discovery, and she finds herself going against everything she stands for, in an attempt to protect her brother. She also learns a lesson about subtlety and the power of information.

Skye was packing up her van preparing to venture back into the city now that New York was officially accessible to public again. Stacking bottles of water next to the canned food, and rolling up her sleeping bag and tucking it in the corner along with her god-awful mattress, when her phone pinged with an encrypted message.

**_Miles – Check out this link that my hacker buddy sent me…_ **

Skye opened the link on her phone with mild curiosity. Glancing at her phone’s clock for a passing moment, Skye wondered what Miles was doing awake at ten in the morning, usually Miles maintained a strict _hacker schedule_ , where he hacked all night and slept all day.

_Whatever it is, it must be good_ , Skye decided, and proceeded to watch as grainy security footage popped up onto her Blackberry’s screen.

A tall black man with an eye-patch approached a glowing blue cube that Skye recognized as the Tesseract. Scientists conducting tests on the object, as the man stared at the alien artifact with an anticipatory gleam in his lone eye. Skye raises her eyebrows at that.

One moment the scene was calm, placid even, and then the Tesseract somehow grew unstable, and Loki stepped through a portal that was curiously generated by the glowing cube. Chaos ensued, and before she knew it Skye was watching, as the horned God of Mischief, used his scepter to enforce his own will upon her brother. Skye swallowed thickly, as Clint’s eyes turned an unnatural electric blue, and he mindlessly followed Loki as he left the building.

_I didn’t know,_ is the first thought that comes to Skye’s mind, _he didn’t tell me._ She felt awful that Clint had gone through something as traumatic as having his freewill stolen, and she hadn’t been there for him. Guilt settled low in her belly, quickly followed by anger as she remembered that it wasn’t her fault that Clint had kept secrets from her.

Skye felt her phone buzz in her hand again, snapping her attention back to the Blackberry.

**_Miles – I’ve been able to hack a few cameras that were still viable during the New York Invasion, and that blue cube was what brought the aliens here._ **

Skye rolls her eyes, _nothing I don’t already know._ Not a second later another message followed.

**_Miles – SHIELD caused the invasion, and now they’re getting the praise for cleaning it up._ **

Skye couldn’t help but understand Miles’ outrage. After all, it had taken a whole ten, agonizingly slow days for New York City to be cleared of all the alien corpses and artifacts. And in those two hundred and forty hours, SHIELD swooped in and evacuated the entire city of civilians, claiming that it was for the safety of the residents of New York, and by extension, the world. Playing the; _we-don’t-know-what-diseases-these-creatures-may-have-carried-_ card and spouting the typical; _we-are-here-to-protect-you-_ spiel, promptly shutting-up the general population about being displaced from their homes and routines.

The poor saps even going as far as pouring out their thanks to SHIELD, over social media for protecting them, kissing their asses for cleaning up a mess that they were responsible for in the first place. The secret irony only providing more fuel to Skye’s frustration with the government.

She understood why men like the black, eye-patch toting guy would want to satiate his curiosity about something completely unknown. After all, it was exactly what she had been attempting to do all of her life by trying to find her parents and soulmate. But Skye’s thirst for knowledge didn’t put the fate of the world at risk, and the Tesseract had. The black dude really should have been capable of making better decisions.

**_Miles – We need to spread this information. The public needs to know._ **

For some reason, it was this last text that stopped Skye short as her stomach swooped with anxiety. Her phone was still frozen on the image of Clint, with his unthinking, glowing blue eyes, and some part of Skye couldn’t do what Miles wanted. She bit her lip as a surge of protective instinct roared in her ear, telling her that it was still her job to look out for Clint.

It always had been. It was how they were.

“Nooope, can’t do it…” Skye says hesitantly to no one, a guilty grimace pulling at the corners of her mouth.

Her decision made, Skye shuffled over all the junk in her banged up van, to get to her laptop. Once the machine was humming thoughtfully, she sent the encrypted video to her laptop and began analyzing the code imbedded in the file. Once she had cloned it and put it into her own program that basically worked as facial recognition, but for lines of coding she re-opened the back channel she had created into SHIELD and began a systematic search for the original security footage. Skye knew that it would likely take hours before the program found anything useful, but she knew that Miles wouldn’t expect a response right away, as he was probably working under the assumption that she was running on a _hacker’s schedule_ too.

Skye left her computer to run the program in the background, while she finished packing up her gear, and then hopped behind the wheel of her precious van. Now that she was allowed back inside New York City, there was only one place Skye had any interest in visiting.

Unfortunately for her, it was the same place that anyone that had heard of the Avenger’s would probably be staking out for a single glimpse of Earth’s saviors. Which meant, literally _everyone._

Skye sighed and started the engine to her beat up little van, and pulled out of the alley behind a bed bath and beyond that sat just outside the city limits.

It took a total of four hours and fifty three minutes to navigate her way through downtown, and finally get within a block of the Avenger’s tower, formerly known as Stark Tower. The roads were torn so badly, that Skye wondered if she would need a new set of tires after this little field trip to see her brother. Skye decided that Clint could pay for them.

The property damage was phenomenal. Skye had seen video footage and photos of course, but it was very different to actually see the destruction with her own two eyes. Bitumen was shredded and scattered all across the sidewalk, crumbling buildings made ominously loud creaking noises that Skye could hear even within the confines of her van as she drove past. Occasionally she would catch a glimpse of dark brown splatter across walls, which she knew for fact came from the body of a dead Chitauri. What was worse was when Skye would see the same patterns of spray, but in shades of red. Her throat burning as nausea bubbled inside her chest.

Unsurprisingly the only structure within New York that didn’t look like it had just come out the other side of world war three was the newly dubbed, _Avenger’s_ Tower. Even from this distance, Skye could see Tony Stark flying around in his Iron Man suit, welding bits and pieces back into place.

The area was cordoned off and guarded by beefy looking dudes, wearing t-shirts two sizes two small and badges that identified them as security. Skye thought that it was kind of ridiculous that Earth’s mightiest hero’s needed protection from a few girls in cosplay outfits. Nevertheless, Skye pulled over on the side of the road and jumped into the back to check the progress of the program she set up hours ago. And to her proud delight, her ghost software had found the file she was looking for. The original security footage of Loki’s arrival to Earth.

Skye re-watched the archived feed to ensure that the version she had been shown hadn’t been tampered with, before imbedding her signature inside the footage. Skye knew that it was a gamble, and a pretty big risk to leave a breadcrumb there, and SHIELD would immediately be alerted to unauthorized activity within their firewalls.

But she knew that her hack wasn’t time-stamped and it was impossible to tell when she accessed the data, so Miles would probably think that she had simply gotten there before his mysterious hacker buddy. Miles also wouldn’t blink twice at her leaving evidence of her presence for SHIELD to find, as hacker’s were notorious for their egos – usually – and he would blindly surmise that she was proud of her work and maybe even trying to prove herself so that the Rising Tide would initiate her into their ranks.

Which was mostly true. She was proud, and she did want in on the Rising Tide.

Miles, not wanting to jeopardize that, or bring heat down on top of her just to expose a video to the public, would probably set up a program that deleted the file every time it reappeared online.

_One of the perks of him wanting into my pants, I guess._ Skye cringed as she guessed what currency he would expect her to pay her gratitude with. The soulmark that ran the length of her spine throbbed to remind Skye that he wasn’t who she - or fate, for that matter - wanted beneath her. Skye rubbed her hand over the top of the daisy in a soothing gesture, and soon the throbbing eased back into the not-unpleasant buzz that her soulmark normally resonated at.

Once her mark had calmed, she pulled out her phone and sent Miles an encrypted message in response to his four from earlier this morning. After all, it was now nearly three o’clock in the afternoon, and a much more respectable time for a hacker to be awake.

**_Skye – Already saw the footage last night. Hacked the original file and left my tag. Was gunna text you about it but I crashed._ **

The reply was almost immediate, and Skye wondered if he had been waiting for her response.

**_Miles – You already accessed it?? That’s some serious finger-magic babe, top brass will be interested ;)_ **

Skye couldn’t hold back the excited squeal that escaped her lips at that, despite Miles’ suggestive innuendo. She had been trying to get Miles to hook her up with the Rising Tide for months, but he kept dodging her, saying she still had so much to learn from him. Not-so-subtly inviting her to come to his place so they could _practice_. Skye didn’t need to be a genius to figure out what he really wanted to practice. The mental image alone made her nauseas.

**_Skye – You really think so??_ **

She was practically vibrating with energy by this point, eagerly awaiting the buzz of her phone that would tell her Miles had responded.

**_Miles – Yeah of course! That’s an amazing hack babe. But I wish you hadn’t tagged the file. Can’t leak it if it’s going to bring attention back to the Rising Tide, or you for that matter. SHIELD’s already on our ass._ **

_Predictable,_ Skye grinned smugly to herself.

**_Skye – I’m sorry, didn’t really think past how proud I was that I cracked their systems on my own._ **

Skye questioned whether Miles truly thought she was so unskilled that she couldn’t crack SHEILD without help, or if he only paid attention to her intellect long enough to catch a glimpse of her ass whenever she wore skinny jeans.

**_Miles – Of course you didn’t babe, it’s exciting! We’ll have to celebrate when you get back into town. When are you back in New York?? Xx_ **

Skye rolled her eyes, immediately knowing exactly how Miles planned to _celebrate_ her success, and she really was not interested. She glanced out the window, staring at the damaged expanse of the city.

**_Skye – Not sure when I will be back, I’ll let you know._ **

_Or not…_ Skye giggled to herself.

Skye shoved her phone back into her pocket and made a mental note to delete any video surveillance of herself after she visited Clint, just in case Miles decided to look for her himself. Hopping out of her van, Skye securely locked up before she walked closer to the tower, and writhing mass of Avenger groupies.

Approaching the area least populated by sweaty adolescents, Skye made her way towards - who she assumed was - the beef cake in charge. His flinty eyes latched onto her immediately and narrowed into suspicious slits. Before Skye could even say two words, he was putting a meaty fist on her shoulder and nudging her backwards. “The tower isn’t accepting visitors.”

“I’m here to see Clint Barton.” Skye says anyway, ignoring the perspiration she could feel soaking into the fabric of her shirt where the glorified babysitter gripped her lapels.

The man’s expression remained unchanged.

“You know, the deaf dude who hangs out with superheroes.” Skye shoots the security guard a knowing look.

The man’s eyes narrowed even further as she rattled off what she assumed were harmless facts about her brother, and used Clint’s proper name rather than his title. Which FYI, Skye thought was a ridiculous codename. _Hawkeye. Who thinks of this stuff?_

“Come with me ma’am.” He says simply, his loose grip tightening considerably as he unceremoniously dragged Skye behind him.

Skye couldn’t summon the appropriate offended response to the man calling her a ma’am, because suddenly her legs were barely touching the ground and her soulmark was tingling at the back of her neck warning her of the threat this man posed. Setting her hairs on end and causing a sliver of fear to lodge itself in the back of her throat. The same way it had ever since she was a child, and one of the foster dad’s drank too much.

Skye trailed behind the behemoth of a man wordlessly, trusting her mark implicitly, and trying to keep her legs under her.

Before she knew it, she was being shoved into a discreet, black van and a bag was being shoved over her head, followed swiftly by a pair of too-tight handcuffs that pinched the skin of her wrists. “Seriously!” She exclaimed as her vision was abruptly replaced with blackness.

Skye wasn’t sure how long the trip in the car was, but all too soon she was being shuffled into a room that had the AC blasting needlessly freezing air. Skye shivered, and wrapped her arms tightly around her frame as best as she could while her hands were bound. Goose pimples prickling her skin under her purple, long-sleeved shirt. Skye was carelessly shoved into a steel chair that was somehow even colder, and immediately sapped the warmth from her body and scraped across the floor as her slight frame collided with it.

Skye cursed under her breath and sat gingerly on the edge of the chair. Instinctually knowing that there would be a bruise along her hip from the rough treatment.

Skye couldn’t help but wonder how the situation escalated so quickly. For one, she was tiny, and had literally no muscle mass, surely she couldn’t possibly pose enough threat to the Avenger’s to be black-bagged and cuffed. For the millionth time since she saw Clint on TV fighting aliens with a bow and arrow, she wondered what the hell her brother had gotten himself into.

As a child he had always enjoyed taking risks, he’d loved the adrenaline of doing something he shouldn’t and getting away with it. If there was a race to the top of the dead oak tree in the orphanage backyard, Clint was the idiot who climbed the very top branches. If there was a discreet spit-ball fight taking place behind Mister Noonan’s back as he taught Biology, it was safe to assume that Clint was probably the instigator. The orphanage bully making fun of Skye’s soulmark again, he was the first and only person to step in and punch the kid in his red, pimpled face.

That’s just who her brother was. Where he went, trouble was sure to follow. Skye decided that she really shouldn’t be surprised that Clint of all people managed to get himself involved with the Avengers, and SHIELD, and _god-knows_ what else.

Before she can get too lost in her thoughts Skye hears the door being opened a second time, followed by deathly silent footsteps. The bag is ripped from her head suddenly, and the bright light assaults her eyes as she tries to adjust to her new surroundings.

Skye directs her attention to the new addition to the room, and a slow grin lights up her features. “Hey I know you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone who has managed to stay invested in this story despite the unreliable updates, I applaud and thank you!  
> I am constantly tweaking this story so anyone who has stuck with this story from the beginning might notice some small changes to the storyline. Hope you guys like them :D


	5. Miss Davies is my Personal Shopper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint receives an ominous text that causes him to seek out help from an unlikely source. Tasha protects a friend and Tony gets a chance to play hero without the Iron Man suit.

Clint felt his phone vibrate against his calf as he pulled himself up onto the iron cross-beam. _It’s probably Skye,_ he sighs dramatically while he knows no one is watching. She’d been texting him sporadically all week.

**_Tasha – I have your sister._ **

_Huh?_

Clint can feel himself frowning at the screen in his hand. Tasha doesn’t typically text. Not that she doesn’t know how to. More like she doesn’t like communicating in any passive form where she has no real evidence that the person she intended to speak with is _actually_ the person she’s speaking with. _Good-old, Russian paranoia._

Returning his attention to the contents of the mysterious text message, Clint responded in exactly the manner Tasha would likely expect.

**_C.B – And why exactly do you have my sister?_ **

The response was almost immediate. Proof that Natasha fully expected the question and already had a response waiting.

 _What’s my role in this conversation again?_ Clint thought sarcastically to himself.

**_Tasha – U/C SHIELD agent picked her up at the perimeter._ **

**_Tasha – She triggered the Threat Containment Protocol._ **

Clint winced. The sound of air hissing against his front teeth echoed in the empty training room. He could just imagine the unimpressed glare he would be receiving from Skye when he saw her next, especially now that she had been black-bagged and cuffed. _This could get ugly,_ Clint mused to himself.

The Threat Containment Protocol or TCP, was a strategy put in place to ensure that an agent’s cover was maintained in the field and undercover missions. There were certain pieces of information that were fine to have knowledge of, but if a person had access to more than one, they immediately landed on SHIELD’s shit-list.

**_C.B – What did she say?_ **

Clint needed to know the level of response and thereby interest SHIELD would show his sister now that she had triggered the TCP.

**_Tasha – Your civilian name in relation to medical history and field handle._ **

“Shit!” Clint groaned into the vast room, his exasperation echoing off of the walls. There was no way SHIELD would be letting Skye go now. She was an unknown variable, and a possible hazard. Making his job of getting her out of hot water that much more difficult, especially considering she erased every trace of herself from the internet as soon as she left the Orphanage. Which would make running her picture and prints through the system that much more _interesting_.

 _They’re going to think she’s a spy_ , a shot of fear slices into his belly like serrated steel at the mere thought.

**_C.B - You know she’s not a threat._ **

**_Tasha – I do, but are you ready to tell SHIELD that?_ **

Clint cursed loudly as he launched himself off of the iron beam and landed into a silent crouch. He stormed past Steve without even acknowledging the man, and made his way directly to Tony Stark’s lab.

**_C.B – Stall the background search if you can._ **

**_Tasha – Already on it, you’ve got 45 minutes._ **

Without knocking, Clint barged into the playboy billionaire’s workshop and immediately turned his stereo off. Earning him an irritated, “Pepper I told you I am not hungry. Please stop nagging like my mother, it isn’t flattering. Oh and before you go, turn my music back on thank you,” from under the hood of some vintage sports car.

“I don’t know how Miss Potts puts up with you if you’re this charming all the time.” Clint deadpans.

Tony knocks his head audibly against the metal hood, and turns around to face his unexpected visitor. “It’s a talent. Her talent, my talent. We’re both very talented.” Tony speaks absurdly fast, and Clint wonders how much caffeine he’s had today. “What do you want Legolas? I’m busy.” He wipes his hands on a nearby rag and shoots Clint an impatient look.

Clint folds his arms in front of his chest and widens his stance. “I need a favor.”

Tony chews aggressively on the gum in his mouth before saying, “well, that’s nice. Come back later when I’m feeling more generous.” Tony waves his hand dismissively and turns back to the car that had been occupying him for the past twenty minutes.

“Not very philanthropic of you,” Clint can’t suppress the annoyance that bleeds into his tone as he catches a glimpse of the clock on the wall. He was running out of time.

Tony chuckles, “probably not.” Silence reigns for all of two seconds before Tony seems to give in. “What’s the favor?” His back is still to Clint, but his hands are moving slower than before.

Clint perks up at that. “I need you to create an online history for a friend of mine. All completely benign and uninteresting to an agency like SHIELD. And a cover story that would explain how she knew certain classified information about the Avengers. And I need it within the next 43 minutes and 34 seconds.”

Tony snorts loudly, as he pushes away from the car and falls gracelessly into a rolling office chair perched in front of his state of the art computer system. “I’ll only need 30.” He boasts, even as his fingers fly across his keyboard at an alarming speed. “I’ll need a recent photograph and finger prints if you have them. Oh and a juicy explanation for all of this when I’m done.” Tony stops abruptly and looks Clint square in the eye.

Clint doesn’t even hesitate when he says, “deal.”

Tony’s grin is positively saccharine as he turns around and continues typing.

 

* * *

 

Tasha stares unflinchingly at the girl in front of her as she has done for the past 38 minutes. Clint’s sister wisely chose not to say anything after Tasha hadn’t responded to any of her attempts to start conversation. Hoping that by doing so she would discourage the girl from divulging anything damning before Clint could intervene.

_“Hey I know you…” Was met with stony silence._

_“… You were on the… news?” Stony silence and a glare._

_“So, um… Why am I… Why am I here?” Tasha’s glare had darkened._

_“So how about that alien invasion the other day? Super lame…” Tasha had wanted to laugh at that one, but alas the silence stretched on and the girl had gulped nervously._

The young woman had started twitching anxiously after the 15 minute mark of complete and utter silence. And now that there was only 6 minutes and 15 seconds left of the 45 minute window she had given Clint, Tasha could see the girl’s nervous ticks getting more agitated and pronounced. She couldn’t meet Tasha’s eyes, and her cheeks had turned a very bright shade of crimson and stayed that way after her crack about the _lame_ alien’s.

“Romanoff, what the hell are you doing? You’re blowing it.” Agent Jefferson’s nasally voice complained through the comms.

Tasha stalwartly ignored him.

“Agent Romanoff, do you need one of us to take over?” The female one, Agent Dane suggested carefully.

She went ignored as well.

Jefferson piped up not a second later, “Romanoff, we need you to get something out of the girl while we wait for the techs to arrive with replacement computers.”

It was such a shame that somehow a steaming mug of coffee had been knocked over the computer hard-drives, making a background check impossible at present. Tasha still thought it rather embarrassing that none of the agents had suspected foul play. But this was a shitty job that was usually assigned shitty agents. She supposed it was likely a good thing that none of them were paranoid enough to question such a thing, especially when it was working in her favor presently.

2 minutes and 58 seconds, until that tech was expected to arrive. _Clint had better move his ass._

Tasha took the liberty of studying the girl once more. She was a pretty thing, if a bit unkempt. Her dark brunette hair fell in tangled disarray, with slight shadows under her eyes. Her top was faded purple and had worn holes in the elbows and a few other places. To say the girl looked homeless would be kind.

Tasha heard a commotion on the other side of the door, raised voices and dismissive laughter that was instantly familiar. Seconds later the door bursts open and in waltzes Tony, decked out in one of his show-stopping suits, complete with a pair of tinted aviators.

He claps his hands together and makes a big show of walking over to Skye and giving her a big hug, and cheek kiss. “Skye darling it’s so good to see you again.” He greets her loud enough for the perturbed agents still scrambling to catch up with Tony to hear from the hallway.

Tasha can see his mouth move silently right next to Skye’s ear, and the flustered look on the poor girls face melts away only to be replaced with feigned recognition a moment later. _Good,_ Tasha thinks to herself, _she’s with the program_.

“Mr Stark, it’s good to see you again.” Skye smiles warmly.

 _She’s good_ , Tasha decides after watching the interaction closely, _it could use work but at least it’s passable._

“We’ve discussed this Skye, you can call me Tony.” He grins charmingly down at her.

Skye’s cheeks flame even brighter, “of course, Tony.”

Tony winks at her in encouragement, before looping his arm with hers, and promptly frowning a moment later when he notices the handcuffs holding her arms stiffly behind her back. “Oh boys, these aren’t necessary.” He smiles condescendingly at the agents who have finally caught up and have their hands rested uncertainly on their weapons. “Skye is about as threatening as a Miss Potts.” Tony feigns a grimace and theatrically grasps his chin with slightly grease-slicked hands. “Actually no, scratch that. I’ve been on the receiving end of many of Miss Potts’s disapproving glares, she is definitely more threatening.” He says mostly to himself.

When the agents don’t immediately spring into action, Tony levels a much more annoyed expression their way. “Remove Miss Davies handcuffs immediately, or Fury will be receiving a very unfriendly phone call from me regarding you’re abysmal behavior.”

Jefferson rests his hand more firmly on his service pistol. “This woman is a SHIELD prisoner at present Mr Stark, and you have no right to demand her release.” He recites the SHIELD manual almost word for word.

Tony snorts, a scathing retort hot on his tongue, “Miss Davies is my personal shopper, and has done nothing wrong, unlike your mullet which is currently assaulting my eyes.”

Agent Dane looks doubtful as she appraises Skye’s shabby appearance. Her voice is mocking when she says, “really?”

Skye finally pipes up at that, “dunno if you got the memo honey, but alien’s attacked New York last week? And I didn’t have time to pack before I ran for my life.” There’s a gleam in her eye that makes Tasha re-evaluate the girl.

Dane flushes an embarrassed pink, before looking to Tasha for guidance. “Uncuff her.”

Jefferson gawks at Tasha like she’s gone insane. “You can’t be serious, she triggered Barton’s TCP.”

“I would hope that she did!” Tony sounds completely incredulous. “Considering that Clint asked her to purchase him some new slim-line, state of the art hearing aids. I pay her enough to know the people she’s shopping for.” Tony stares the two agents down. “Of course I did offer to design and create a new set of aids for the man, but apparently he doesn’t trust me not to tamper with them when he gets snooty and irritating.” He huffs dramatically.

Skye’s lips twitch as she fights a grin.

Dane and Jefferson are looking rather uncertain at this point, so they once again seek guidance from Tasha. “Uncuff her.” She says more forcefully this time.

“She was found with no ID, and didn’t offer any of this information herself. How do we know that this isn’t some elaborate scheme?” Dane raises a skeptical eyebrow and stares Skye down for a long moment. Purposefully avoiding the unimpressed gazes of Tony and Tasha.

With a flourish, Tony produces a suave black purse that he probably swiped from Pepper’s closet, riffles through it until he finds the driver’s license he manufactured for Skye, along with a Stark Industries ID badge. “Happy now, _Agent_?” His tone is derisive, and the grin that splits his cheeks is oozing superiority.

Dane flushes an embarrassed red. The agents don’t argue this time, and immediately do as previously instructed.

Skye rubs at her aching wrists the moment she is free.

“Miss Davies, please make yourself available for any follow-up questions in the next few days.” Tasha ushers Skye and Tony to the door, and allows them to leave on their own accord.

Tony throws a cheeky, “have a lovely day harassing more innocent civilians, Tweedle-dee, Tweedle-dum, Tasha.” He waves dramatically over his shoulder to all three of them, and winks at Tasha over his shoulder. Tasha can see Skye’s torso shake with laughter as they disappear from view.

Moments later a plump Computer tech arrives with laptop in hand. Dane immediately snatches the device from his grasp and does a comprehensive search on ‘Skye Davies.’ Seconds later the relevant files appear on the screen confirming everything Tony had told them, and Skye was officially cleared as a threat.

Only once she is on her own again does Tasha allow herself a small smile of victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!!
> 
> Leave some feedback, I love hearing from you guys :D
> 
> \- Loz


	6. A Sibling trained in the art of Fibbery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint finally comes clean, and the siblings clear the air. Mostly. And never missing an opportunity for mischief, Clint has a little fun.

Clint works out his anxiety by throwing knives at a target. Enjoying the stretch of his muscles, the clean whistle of metal slicing through air, and the satisfying ‘thump’ of steel being imbedding into rubber. He’s been at it for ten minutes now.

“Mr Barton, you have Miss Skye here to see you.” Jarvis announces overhead.

Clint swallows down nerves, “send her up.”

“Right away,” the disembodied voice responds crisply.

“You good?” Comes Tasha’s voice from somewhere behind him. Spinning around he wonders how the hell she got here before Skye did.

Clint doesn’t answer with words, just shakes his head no.

Nat lifts a single eyebrow, beckoning him to continue.

Sighing loudly and running a hand through his dark hair, Clint explains. “I just don’t want to give her anymore reason not to trust me. Or worse, for her to think that I don’t trust her.”

“Do you trust her?” She asks plainly.

Clint glowers at Nat. “Of course I trust her.”

“Then give her a chance to hear what you have to say and understand why you did it.” Nat shrugs like they’re talking about the weather, not one of the most important relationships in his life.

“Real helpful, I feel so much better,” Clint sasses moodily. Tasha just gives him a small smile.

Then the heavy training room door is opening, and in walks Skye.

“So this is what an administrative job in private security looks like.” Skye takes a cursory look around the state of the art gym. “Color me impressed, I had a totally different picture of what that looked like in my head. Although usually it involved more desk chairs,” Skye comments sarcastically.

Clint winced, looking to Tasha for support or maybe an extraction plan if she was feeling especially altruistic. But the red head was already sauntering away, leaving Clint to clean up his own mess. “Don’t believe everything you hear?” Clint shrugged uncertainly as he self-consciously scratched his heated neck.

Skye snorted. It wasn’t a pretty sound, dipped as it was in disappointment. “Especially not from you at least.” She chewed her lip indecisively before closing the distance between them and throwing her arms around Clint’s neck, squeezing him in a tight hug. “You scared the sass out of me.” She says shakily into Clint’s hair.

“Well it looks like you got it back,” Clint teases gently as he sets Skye back down on the floor.

Skye slaps him lightly across the chest, “Shut up.”

“Ow,” he complains, rubbing his sternum like a petulant child.

“Stop being such a baby.” She rolls her eyes at Clint’s dramatics.

“I am really glad that you’re okay.” Clint admits seriously. “I freaked out when I realised you were in New York when the alien’s attacked, and then I freaked again when I got a text from Nat telling me SHIELD had picked you up.” Clint swallows thickly, and Skye looks just as uncomfortable as him. Hoping to bring some levity to the conversation he quips. “If I get grey hair from this I am blaming you.”

Skye scoffs. “Laura won’t believe that and we both know it.”

Clint effects a comically offended expression before dropping it all together. “Actually yeah that’s probably true. I’m pretty sure she likes you more than me.”

“Of course she does, I’m awesome.” She grins proudly.

“I’ve missed this.” Clint knows without a mirror or a snarky reminder from Skye that his face looks all soft and _gooey_.

Skye chooses not to give him shit - _this time_ \- and simply says “me too,” really softly.

“So nice weather we’ve been having…” Clint rocks uncomfortably on the balls of his feet. He finds that despite Tasha’s _reassuring_ speech about trust, he’s still worried that he’ll be levelled with that heartbreakingly disappointed look Skye perfected as a child.

“Oh no, we’re having this conversation whether you like it or not.” She scolds.

“Or not,” Clint agrees under his breath.

Skye definitely heard him, but refrains from commenting. She’s the mature one in the family, obviously.

“But first you’re going to make us coffee, because my ass is still half frozen from that stupid metal chair in my interrogation, and I _need_ the warmth.” Skye complains dramatically.

“Pfft! don’t fib to me girly,” Clint teases, even as they board the elevator that takes them directly to the correct floor. He leads Skye towards Starks fancy state of the art kitchen that the man has no idea how to use. “We both know that you love caffeine more than life.”

“That might be true.” She admits, as she makes herself comfortable at the breakfast bar and watches Clint putter around the kitchen comfortably. “This place is amazing,” Skye comments after a moment of near silence, the whistle of the coffee maker the only sound to be heard.

“Yeah Stark nearly has more money than brains, which trust me is saying something.” He quips.

Skye hums thoughtfully for a moment, eyes drinking in everything around her eagerly. Clint recognised the look. It was the look of someone who was surrounded by more wealth in one room than they had seen in their entire life. Clint was sure he sported an expression very similar the first time he walked through the Avenger’s Tower after the destruction caused by Loki had been cleared away.

Even now, absorbing the marble bench tops and floors, top of the range electronic kitchen-ware and the priceless artwork surrounding them, Clint completely understands Skye’s overwhelmed expression.

Clint turned off the coffee machine and slid the steaming cup towards Skye without spilling a drop. Going to the fridge and finding the whipped cream to spray on the top of his own beverage.

Skye grimaces as she watches him, “That’s disgusting.”

Clint takes a large gulp out of his caramel Frappuccino with four sugars, and sighed contentedly. “Ahhh!”

“You’re going to get diabetes if you keep drinking that shit.” Skye is staring at the whipped cream smeared across his top lip with revulsion.

“And you’re going to have a heart attack one day because you drink red bull whenever you’re thirsty,” he retorts with a shit-eating grin.

Skye pouts, even though they both know it was cuter when she was nine. “Fine, I won’t pick on your drinking habits, if you don’t pick on mine.”

“Deal,” Clint quickly agrees.

“You should also stop _eating_ so much sugar.” Skye takes a serendipitous sip of her coffee and stares at Clint with a teasing sparkle in her eye, over the lip of her cup.

Clint’s jaw slackens as he groans, “Bitch.” He levels a half-hearted glare at his annoying little sister. “You and your bloody loop-holes.” He whines pathetically.

Skye throws her head back and cackles triumphantly.

When she finally calms down, and their drinks are mostly finished, Clint broaches the topic he knows that they’re both waiting anxiously to talk about. “So, you wanted an explanation?” His tone is solemn, the joking banter from earlier long gone.

Skye sits up in her seat and gives Clint her full attention. “Yes,” she says it so softly Clint almost doesn’t hear it.

“I gotta admit I don’t really know where to start.” Clint scrubs a hand across his face, his fingertips catching on two days-worth of prickly stubble.

“Just start from the top. Tell me when this began.” She suggests patiently, elbows leaning on the counter, and chin perched in her hands.

Clint takes a deep breath. “Okay. Do you remember when I had just turned fifteen, and I wanted to run away from the orphanage to find my parents?”

Skye grins as she reminisces. “Yeah, and I got really mad with you ‘cause I thought that meant you wanted to leave me behind too?”

“Yeah,” Clint chuckles. “You were a very moody twelve year old.” He observes jokingly.

Skye lightly smacks his arm. “I was not, now get on with the story.”

“Right. Well after we cleared up our little misunderstanding and we ran away _together._ We were out for about six months. Stealing food, living in abandoned buildings, all while staying off the radar of social services and the police. We could have stayed that way for years probably, but then winter came, and we had no proper shelter or warm clothing and eventually you got sick. I used to listen to you wheezing for breath at night, and I was so sure you were going to die that I took you the nearest hospital… And…” The ‘ _I left you there alone’_ goes unspoken, but Clint knows Skye doesn’t need to hear it to remember how this part of the story goes.

_Waking up in a strange place, alone._

_Being questioned by police and social workers about Clint’s whereabouts._

Clint recalls how she had been so angry with him when he saw her next, convinced that the only person she had ever cared about had abandoned her just like her parents.

Skye swallows thickly and can’t meet Clint’s eyes. It’s not something they ever really talk about. The emotions too raw, even years later.

Clint clears his throat, and if his voice is wobbly neither of them comments. “After that I kept looking for my parents. I asked their old friends, I visited our old house and asked the new owners if they knew anything. And after a while I just gave up. I reconnected with you, but somehow managed to stay out of the foster systems clutches.” He glances up to make sure Skye’s still paying attention.

“And then one day the circus came to town. And I remember my dad used to take me every year. It was our thing. The only time we spent together.” Clint can’t maintain eye contact with Skye. He knows too well how she feels about his father, and doesn’t need to be watching to know her face just darkened in anger.

“Anyway, it’s safe to say that I was a bit of a mess. First time back to the circus since my parents…” Clint still doesn’t like to use the word _abandoned_ , even though it’s the only word that truly explains what his parents did. They left their deaf twelve year old son on the footsteps of a church, malnourished and dirty, before skipping town never to be seen or heard from again.

“I got absolutely sloshed. A bit of property damage, and a swift kick up the backside from the carnies later, I made a deal to work for free to clear my debt to them in exchange for not calling the cops. And before I knew it, I had joined the circus.” Clint does a lame spirit-finger wiggle, and sighs. “I hated it at first.” He drops his hands onto the counter-top.

Skye grins softly, “I bet you did.”

They both knew Clint hated being told what to do. Authority figures never did hold much weight with him.

“What happened next?” Skye asks, enraptured by the story. Clint had never told her much about his time away, mostly because they both understood that she didn’t want to hear how great his life had been without her in it.

“Ah, one of the archers took an interest in me when he caught me screwing around with his equipment one day.” Clint laughs, as he recalls how scared he’d been, “I thought he was going to beat me to hell.”

“He didn’t,” Clint clarified when Skye’s eyebrows twitched with worry. “Nah, Emil was the Circus drunk, and he had a tendency to abuse his assistants. Overall he was a mean bastard and he had a bad rep amongst the other carnies. But for some reason he took a shine to me. Said I had talent with the bow and started training me.”

“How long did it take to learn?” Skye is fully invested in the story now, and Clint can’t help but remember how she had been too impatient to sit through a story as a little kid. Always wanting to skip to the end.

Clint scrunched his brow trying to recall. “I don’t really remember, but I learned fast. About a month after Emil caught me in his stuff; I was performing alongside the man.” Clint stretches out and takes their empty mugs to the sink.

“Wow, you must have been good.” Skye comments cheekily.

“I _was_ and _still am_ the best in the business.” Clint clarifies, sensing a Skye sized verbal trap.

“Can you shoot an apple off my head?” She deadpans.

“Can you log into a computer?” Clint retorts sassily, poking his tongue at his sister to bring the maturity level in the room to all time low. Clint pulls up a chair next to Skye.

Skye grins, “While I hate that I didn’t know any of this, I have to admit that’s really cool.”

“I thought you saw me shoot the day of the invasion,” Clint comments with a frown.

“Yeah, but I was paying more attention to the big purple wormhole in the sky and the fucking aliens flying out of it. Not to mention I had a dumbass brother right in the middle of it all, playing hero. I wasn’t paying attention to the accuracy of the shots.” Skye is belly laughing at Clint’s expense now, her laughter increasing the longer Clint’s face is contorted with shocked offense.

“But I was awesome. And I look _damn_ good when I’m playing hero,” Clint whines around a spectacular pout.

Skye’s laughter turns silent, even as her face turns a scarlet hue. Tears slip down her cheeks from laughing so hard.

“Oh shut up.” Clint glares. “If you don’t get control of yourself you’re going to pee your pants and then fall off your chair.” He informs her, delighted, “And then it’ll be my turn to laugh at _you_.”

Skye takes a deep breath and works on calming herself down. “God you are such a drama queen.” She sniffles around an amused smirk.

Clint exaggeratedly clears his throat, “Anyway, before you so rudely interrupted,” he gives her a playfully pointed look.

“I did not-“

“No interrupting Skye, it’s impolite.” Clint struggles to maintain a straight face. “As I was saying, my story isn’t finished yet. So unless you’d prefer we stop now, can I continue my tale?” Clint tries not to look too hopeful.

Placating, Skye raises her palms, “Continue.”

Sobering again, he continues - always hating this part of the story.

“Anyway, after a while I was just as good as Emil and the guy in charge started to take notice. I could do the same tricks, I had the same stage presence, everything. Only difference was that he was an old, belligerent drunk, and I was young talent with no vices. So they sacked Emil and gave me his gig.” Clint can feel the shame burning his cheeks at the mere memory.

“I should have told them I wasn’t interested. Because the next thing happening is two days later after going on a bender, Emil rocks up to my trailer, and levels a loaded bow at my chest with every intention of killing me. I didn’t even think, I just ran for my life. Eventually I got to my bow, and…” Clint’s eyes burn with tears.

“I didn’t want to.” He sniffs wetly. “But the old bugger gave me no choice.”

The next thing Clint is aware of is skinny arms wrapping tightly around him. Grounding him, offering comfort. Clint shakes her off after a minute, and Skye goes willingly taking a step back to give Clint his space.

“The cops showed up not long after that. Social services too. I might have killed Emil in self-defense, but I was in deep shit and everyone knew it. Then a miracle of sorts happened, and SHIELD swooped in and offered me a second chance.” His eyes are glassy with tears, and when Clint finally finds the courage to make eye contact with Skye again, he finds her in a similar state. No pity in her eyes, just love and understanding. Clint loves her a little more for it.

Clint releases this wet chuckle that cracks as it squeezed past constricted vocal chords. “You wouldn’t believe the guy they sent to recruit me. He looked so plain and unassuming. Wore this cheap suit and just had this _dad_ vibe about him. Like after he was done recruiting me to his secret spy organisation he’d go home to his wife in the suburbs and tuck in his 2.5 kids at bedtime.”

Skye chuckles, “Man crush?”

“ _Total_ man crush,” Clint jokes. A tinge of sadness over Coulson’s death making the moment bittersweet.

“Phil told me that SHIELD could use someone with skills like me, and in return for my service they’d make the _Emil thing_ go away.” A cocky grin comes over his face. “I actually told him that unless he sweetened the pot and helped me look after my kid sister that I wasn’t interested.”

Skye looks shocked and a little pissed off, “Why the hell would you risk giving him a reason to take away his offer?”

“Because you’re my little sister, and you’re easily one of the most important people in my life.” The look of pure adoration on Skye’s face makes him uncomfortable, so Clint throws in, “Plus, I really wanted to buy you a laptop for your birthday that year.”

Skye smacks his arm again.

“Ya know, this is turning out to be quite a violent social interaction. That’s the third time you’ve smacked me since you got here.” Clint complains.

“Stop being such an idiot and I won’t have to make it a fourth,” she wisecracks, trying and failing to hide her self-satisfied grin.

“If I were a lesser man, I’d be offended.” Clint waves a finger obnoxiously in her face. Skye gently knocks it away.

“But we both know you’re not,” fondness leaking into her tone. Clint decides it was probably accidental. “So what did Phil say after you told him about _mwah?”_

“Oh he gave me the, _‘I’m sorry Mr Barton but you must be mistaken, your file says that you are a single child’_ gem.” Clint mimics Phil’s unaffected tone and poker face as bet as he can.

Skye sniggers into her fist.

“I rolled my eyes and told him I hadn’t hit my head _that_ hard. I told him all about you. I bet Phil felt like he already knew you by the time I was done. He promised that he’d set something up so that we wouldn’t be separated. But he also made me promise that I wouldn’t tell you about any of this. My involvement with SHIELD had to remain a secret.”

Clint reaches across the counter top to grasp Skye’s hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. “As much as I hated the idea of lying to you, I knew that Phil was offering me an opportunity to make both of our lives better.” Clint makes sure to maintain eye contact with Skye as he says this. Needing her to know that he didn’t make the choice to lie to her out of mistrust or selfishness.

Skye nods almost absent-mindedly. “You were nearly sixteen when this all happened right?” She frowns thoughtfully.

Clint nods.

“But you were back at the orphanage for your sixteenth birthday. If SHIELD recruited you, how did you end up back at St. Agnes?” Brown eyes flood with confusion.

“That was part of my deal with Coulson. I would study and train at the SHIELD academy while you were at a foster placement, but when you were returned to the orphanage, so was I. That way I could always be there with you.”

Skye stares at Clint unblinking for a very long time. Disbelieving and overwhelmed.

“You okay kid?”

Silent tears run down Skye’s face, but she doesn’t respond. Her mouth opening as if to speak, but then closing when she thinks better of it. Eventually Skye just pulls Clint into a tight, desperate hug. Clint can feel her body shaking, and wonders if perhaps telling her was a mistake.

Ten minutes pass that way, and when Skye finally pulls away from her brother, she looks him in the eye and whispers, “Thank you.”

Relieved, Clint grins in response and then continues his story. “By the time you ran away from the Orphanage for good, I had officially aged out of the system and graduated SHIELD the top of my class.” Clint remembers being especially proud over that accomplishment, especially after never being good at anything in school.

Skye nods along, the puzzle pieces finally coming together. “Then you bought an apartment in New York, and I saved up for my van by doing odd cash jobs-”

“-And you’d crash with me whenever money got tight.” Clint finishes. “Not long after that I met Laura, and the rest as they say, is history.”

“Does Laura know about all of this?” Skye gestures to the opulence around them with a broad wave of her hand.

“Yeah, I told Coulson that keeping SHIELD a secret from my kid sister is one thing, but my soulmate? Nah, that was out of the question.”

“Thank God.” She sighs in relief, “Because Laura _would_ kill you for keeping a secret like this.”

Clint joins Skye in her laughter, “Oh yeah!” He emphatically agrees.

“So are we good?” Clint feels those pesky nerves settle uncomfortably in his belly.

“Definitely.” His sister nods, smiling.

“You’re not mad?” He clarifies.

Skye shakes her head no, and Clint feels every last bit of tension that had twisted his back into knots since the Battle of New York, instantly dissipate. He knows that she’ll probably have a lot of questions once she has a chance to come to terms with everything he’s told her, but for now Clint planned to take the win.

“But you totally have to introduce me to your friends from work.” Clint chortles as Skye’s eyes light up with excitement. “Especially Thor,” She waggles her eyebrows and Clint pretends to dry heave.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he promises dryly.

“I also kinda want to meet the guy who recruited you, he sounds like an alright dude.” Skye’s smile disappears when Clint’s face falls.

Scratching the back of his neck, Clint uncomfortably admits, “He umm… He died during the battle.”

“Oh,” Skye looks uncertain about what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah so am I.” Clint tries not to let his grief affect him too much. “He would have liked you though, I just know it.”

Skye’s smile is still a little tremulous but Clint decides to take it as a good sign.

Clint sees Tasha creep silently onto the floor behind Skye’s back, and bites his tongue to repress a devious smirk. Tasha was probably there to check up on him, but Clint decides to have some fun with it.

“So what’d you think of Nat?”

Furrowing her brow in confusion, Skye asks “Who?”

“The Black Widow, my partner, Nat,” Clint clarifies with a grin when Skye’s cheeks heat subtly.

Skye quirks an eyebrow. “Honestly?”

“No I asked you this question because I wanted you to lie to me,” Clint deadpans impressively.

Skye’s cheeks tinge a slight pink, as she admits, “She’s really intimidating, and totally badass, and-”

Sensing the start of rambling he cuts to the chase. “She’s hot though right?”

Skye gives him a queer look. “Obviously,” She states.

Clint smirks, as Tasha walks up behind Skye with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

The Russian spy casually slings an arm around Skye’s shoulders and leans across them to grab an orange out of the fruit bowl. She gives Skye a small smirk. “Thanks,” she drawls, giving Skye a teasing smirk. Before promptly sauntering out of the room with a deliberate sway in her hips. Leaving a flustered and incredibly embarrassed Skye in her wake.

Clint is losing his shit laughing, and eventually topples the bar stool he was seated on. Gravity – and probably a touch of karma - unceremoniously dumps him onto the cool marble floor.

Skye laughs obnoxiously at her brother. “Serves you right for being an asshole.”

Clint can’t find it in himself to be annoyed, so he stays down on the ground laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again lovelies!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the new chapter. Clint and Skye are finally having their long awaited chat! Yay! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hope you guys like it just as much.
> 
> Some of you might notice the absence of the chapter I posted over the weekend, and I do hope you don't miss it too much. But I tend to have a bad habit of going a little overboard with my writing and including stuff that turns out to be ultimately unimportant to the story. And since I am trying to improve my story-telling skills, I decided to give that chapter the flick after some reflection.
> 
> As always, please leave some feedback, as I love, love, LOVE hearing from you guys! Thanks again for reading.
> 
> \- Love Loz

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Thanks for reading this Fic! I really appreciate the support. If you have read any of my other fics, than you know I love feedback, so please tell me what you all think. If you like the story, I will continue it, if not? Then no harm, no foul. So let me know.  
> Thanks again for reading, I truly appreciate it! :D


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